"Here's the paperwork for today Mr. President" A sexy female Lavovy Secretary-General holding a thick stack of files staggered through the door, craning her neck to see where she was going.
"Over here please, thanks." President Tykhyy replied nonchalantly as he gestured to the empty portion of the office desk.
"Hupp! Here you go Mr. President!" Tykhyy's Secretary plopped the files onto his desk before she began to chide him. "Don't forget the meeting this afternoon with Prime Minister Belkov. Last time you were late the Prime Minister threatened that he would find a way to deduct your pay."
"Also, the Konsburg Commissioner of Commerce wants to speak to you later this evening. He and the Roscof Commissioner of Industry have 'concerns' of excessive military production and nationalization now that we are winning the war."
"And lastly tonight you have a meeting with the Techiya Commissioner of Technology and Kokhavor Commissioner of Environmental Sustainability on the development of the coal mines in Okland, Roscof and Rishka."
"That is all I have for you. Now I have my own work to complete so I must be leaving soon. Goodbye!" The Secretary reluctantly said as she bolted towards the door.
"Hey, thanks for the update!" Tykhyy called back as his secretary left the room, shutting the door to his office.
"Sigh…How did I get here?" Tykhyy mumbled to himself, chin rested on his hand as he stared blankly at the large pile of files in front of him.
Back in year 25, 1st President Zoloti of the Kylian Commission had completed the allotted four terms from years 5-25. And so, the Kylian Commission needed a new President.
Apparently, the Kylian Council had chosen him as the candidate to become president of the Kylian Commission. At the time, the Conservatives had a majority of 40% of Kylian Parliament, so it was only expected for a Conservative Commissioner to become a candidate.
It's just that he never expected that out of all the Conservative KMPs, he was the chosen one, but to be honest he was the Conservative party's leader, so it was not too unexpected. After a strong victory in the end of the year vote in Kylian parliament with 60% of the KMPs in favor of him taking office, he became the official President of the Kylian Commission.
Prime Minister Belkov was the leader of the Royalist KMPs who was chosen to replace the aging 1st Prime Minister Fermer. And with that the Royalist-Conservative Coalition had control over a third of the Kylian Legislative branch and the entire Kylian Executive branch.
Now Tykhyy was starting to regret it all. Years of haggling with the Prime Minister and Kylian Commissioners had made the once soft spoken Rohati male to gain a certain gentlemanly charm. However, in the recent year, with Queen Kylia on the frontlines, the paperwork, responsibility and power that Tykhyy manage had increased substantially.
Before, Tykhyy's position was at best a spokesperson for Queen Kylia, following Kylia's agenda and suggestions. When Kylia left, Tykhyy became the most powerful and most important man in the Kingdom. He dictates the political agenda of the entire Kingdom and local Kylian military forces report directly to him. Not even the Kylian Prime Minister has this power.
Lightly shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Tykhyy leaned forward in his chair, rubbing his temples as he shifted through the large pile of documents.
"Let's see…The Kylian Navy had departed port Zeleny…Requests for supplies from Kylia on the Pavo front…Hmm? This is interesting!" Tykhyy muttered to himself with curiosity as he read the awkwardly positioned newspaper that was mixed in with all the documents.
In big bold letters the headline stretched across the page of the Kylian Times.
"FIRST KYLIAN MILLIONAIRE---STALEVI R. METOV STORY OF RAGS TO RICHES"
Scanning through the paper were a ton of passages on Stalevi's story from a humble blacksmith to establishing his industrial empire, pretty much a bunch of bs. What really caught Tykhyy's eye was the comparisons of Stalevi's wealth.
A neat little chart sat in the center of the page, boxed in bold ink as if the editors wanted to make sure the entire Kingdom noticed it. Tykhyy's brow rose as he read the numbers.
Estimated Net Worths (in Kylian Kon):
STALEVI R. METOV: 1,000,000 Kon
PETRO KRAVCHENKO: 800,000 Kon
KYLIAN NATIONAL BANK: 175,000,000 Kon
STATE OF SOVI: 1,250,000 Rupees
"What a stupid comparison! They didn't even bother to convert the currency Rupees into Kon!" Tykhyy admonished as he tossed the newspaper to the side.
Leaning back in his chair, President Tykhyy gazed at the large pile of unfinished files in front of him, glanced at the grandfather clock on the right before staring at a portrait hung up on the left wall.
"Damn you Zoloti!"
…
Meanwhile southeast on the north bank of the Rosian River two guys could be seen enjoying the breezy summer morning fishing.
"Achoo!" Zoloti slid off the rock he was sitting on from the force of his sneeze, nearly taking the bucket of fish with him
"Bud Zdorov Zoloti!" Former Prime Minister chuckled, reeling his line in a little as the river's current tugged at it. "Someone must be talking about you!"
Zoloti sniffed, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand. "Probably Tykhyy cursing my name again. I swear, at the inauguration you should have seen the expression on that guy's face! I nearly fell down laughing at how black it was!"
Fermer let out a hearty laugh. "You did leave him with quite the mess. Leaving right before the war, I wonder how many logistic reports he had to read and sign."
"Hey, I was in office during the Coalition War," Zoloti protested, though a smirk tugged at his lips. "Compared to this war, the Coalition War's logistics was a nightmare."
"True," Fermer conceded. "But you also left him Belkov."
Zoloti groaned. "Don't remind me."
The two men fell into a comfortable silence, listening to the gentle splash of water against the rocks. A dragonfly skimmed across the surface, its wings shimmering in the sunlight. For a moment, it felt like the world was at peace far from the war, far from the politics, far from the endless paperwork Tykhyy was drowning in.
Fermer cast his line again, the hook plopping into the deeper part of the river. "You know," he said casually, "The only regret I have is being too old to experience more of these prosperous times. If I were born 100 years later, I can only imagine what sights I would see."
Zoloti snorted. "Don't say such a depressing thing!"
"Still," Fermer said, glancing sideways at him, "I'm 285 years old; I don't have much time to live."
Both stared up at the drifting clouds in awkward silence.
A moment later, Zoloti's fishing rod jerked violently.
"Whoa! Lord Fermer! I think I've got something!"
Fermer scrambled to his feet. "Hold it steady! Don't let it snap!"
Zoloti braced himself, digging his heels into the dirt as the rod bent dangerously. "What is this thing, a river Octo rock?!"
A moment later the bulbous head of a river Octo rock appeared in the water.
"Blyat! It really is an Octo rock! Shpyhun shoot it!" Zoloti shouted in panic.
Fermer blinked. "Shpyhun? Who the hell is..."
Before he could finish, a small figure burst out of the bushes behind them, boots thudding against the dirt.
The young Rohati agent Shpyhun skidded to a halt, rifle already raised. "Sir! I heard shouting…What in the name of Hylia!"
"Shoot it, you idiot!" Zoloti yelled, unknowingly grabbing onto the fish bucket lid to his left as the Octo rock's cheeks began to swell.
"Bam!" Shpyhun fired his rifle…
[On Wattpad now!]